


In Tempo With You

by xlixi



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Disorder, Canon-Typical Violence, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Music Nerd Mickey, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlixi/pseuds/xlixi
Summary: Ian Gallagher begins a new job at a theater. He soon meets a raven-haired pianist. They teach each other more than they could ever have known.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. Overture

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fic I've written in like ten years. I have spent a lot of my time these past weeks reading, and my therapist told me to try writing again lol. Anyway, I was practicing piano repertoire the other day when I started thinking of Ian and Mickey (which tends to happen a lot), and I just felt inspired. I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He applied to a few waiter and barista roles, a few cashier jobs if they seemed interesting enough (or if he could convince himself that he could make them interesting), and then he came across a listing that piqued his interest more than any of the others: USHER/TICKET TAKER - CIBC THEATRE - BROADWAY IN CHICAGO. He opened up to further examine and read more about the role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overture: an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera, suite, play, oratorio, or other extended composition.

It was the end of summer. The breeze was picking up, and Chicago was swiftly turning into fall. One by one the leaves were turning yellow, red, orange; soon the branches would be vacant and the ground covered in the grimy city ice and snow. The same order of events that happened every year. This year, however, was different for Ian Gallagher as he walked the streets he had walked for years.

 _Bipolar_. It had been a good few months since his manic episode and subsequent diagnosis, yet the stinging still held in his chest. He hadn’t felt like who he felt he should be in so long, but this was the worst he'd felt in a really long time. He knew that the multiple prescriptions he had been taking were supposed to help, but the balancing act was not an easy one, and going to the psychologist every two weeks and the seemingly endless changes in his side effects had been taxing on his emotional state. _Like it was ever in a good state in the first place_ , he thought to himself.

He knew he needed to keep up with the meds. He had seen first hand what happened when someone doesn’t - as had all of his siblings. Monica, his mirror, the woman he spent his youth watching go through ups, downs, and everything in between. All the times she’d run away; he knew it was what he was becoming. So, he had been following the wishes of everybody around him and was taking the pills he’s given - once in the morning, and once at night. It was what he wanted Monica to do for as long as he could remember, so he couldn’t really blame everyone else for worrying as much as they did about him. It was just so suffocating. Plus none of them could truly understand how he felt or why he did the things he did. He didn’t understand any of that half of the time. That was what was so frustrating about it. There was no answer. Other than take the pills, and wait it out.

And at this point he was up and out for a walk, so the progress had been seemingly going well. He could feel himself getting antsy too. Fiona had seen it, and she offered him a job at Patsy’s Pies where she had taken on an assistant managerial role. _No thanks_ , he said, _I think I need to find something for myself_. He meant it; he really did need to do this for himself. If not, he would probably fall into a routine at Patsy’s, and things would probably end up getting frustrating with Fiona around him all times, and he would end up feeling stuck in a routine that he wouldn’t know a clear way out of. No, he was starting a new journey, and he wanted as much control as he could get.

Finally he arrived in front of the house. Ian braced himself before he walked through the gate and up the stairs of the porch with his little pharmacy bag in his left hand. He opened the door and made his entrance. He scanned the living room and listened for any indication of someone else being in their two-story home. Nothing. Good. Having a few minutes alone meant he could get some work done without being bothered by someone asking how he’s feeling, or if he needs anything, or if the meds are starting to balance out, or anything else that he had heard from too many people too many times.

He entered the kitchen and tossed the bag on the counter and turned to the fridge to grab a coke. His eyes scanned over 7-UP, Vernors, and some store brand grape pop. No coke. Great. He opted for the remaining bit of orange juice they had left and poured it into a cup that filled less than a third of the way. With a sharp sigh, he downed it and tossed the cup in the sink with the other dishes unwashed. He moved to the side of the fridge and picked up the blue dry erase marker. _BUY COKE - IAN_. Now he could only hope that someone else gets to the chore before he would have to force himself to go to the store.

He moved up the stairs on a search for the family laptop. His first instinct was to look in Debbie’s room, and his hunch was correct. He unplugged the laptop and strode back down the stairs and took a seat at the kitchen table. Opening up the laptop he was met with many tabs pulled up about pregnancy and child care. Going to ignore that, he noted to himself. He quickly closed the tabs and continued on with his mission. “ _jobs in chicago_ ” came up with over one billion results. As if he wasn’t already overwhelmed. He ignored the anxious feeling in his stomach and clicked the first link on the page. Then he was overwhelmed by all the results on the following page.

After narrowing his search -- location: within 10 miles, job type: part time or full time, experience level: entry level -- he noticed that entry level didn’t always mean he would fit. Most of the positions posted required a bachelors or even a high school degree or equivalent which was an issue in Ian’s case. _High school dropout_ , he scoffed, _what the fuck happened_. He scrolled through job post after job post: too inexperienced, too uneducated, too uninteresting. He didn’t exactly know what he was looking for, but he knew he wanted something exciting and he was also hoping for something where he could interact with people because, _Jesus_ , he missed being around people. Though he loved them, his family are not always the best at fulfilling his social needs, especially now that Lip was in college and Carl had been dealing with gangs and drugs and whatever and Debbie was working on becoming a teen mom and Fiona was married to one guy and dating another and where was Liam? Ultimately, not the best company for an eighteen year old who was trying to work through a mental illness when he wanted some interaction. And there was still so much worry about him, and he was _fine_ ; he had been working on it.

He applied to a few waiter and barista roles, a few cashier jobs if they seemed interesting enough (or if he could convince himself that he could make them interesting), and then he came across a listing that piqued his interest more than any of the others: USHER/TICKET TAKER - CIBC THEATRE - BROADWAY IN CHICAGO. He opened up to further examine and read more about the role.

Though he hadn’t been downtown much recently, he had passed by this theater whenever he was in the area. It’s right off of Monroe next to Blick, which he could remember going to with his mother when she was dedicated to an art project he had in the fourth grade. _We can go to the fancy art store! That’s where all the professionals get their paint and like canvases and stuff! Doesn’t that sound like so much fun, baby?_ The memory made him chuckle. It was way out of the way for art supplies, but she was determined it was best, and the project turned out great. He got an A. He loved the good memories of Monica.

He turned his attention back to his screen, he decided _fuck it_ and clicked to apply. He didn’t fully know what the job was as he’d never been to a professional theater ever, but it sounded like it was a job that involved people, and it seemed like the most interesting posting on the website. After spending another half hour searching through post after post, he could feel himself getting worn out. Whether a side effect of his meds or not, he knew he needed a nap before he passed out at the kitchen table. He shut the laptop, returned it to the charger in Debbie’s room, and pulled his shirt over his head as he walked back to the twin bed in the corner of his room to fall asleep.

\--

Ian was awoken by a soft but forceful thump to his head. “Mnnn... what the fuck?” he questioned the figure beside his bed.

“Fiona and Sean bought KFC,” Carl stated as he threw the pillow in his hand back on his bed and to grab his phone from its charger. “We’re gonna eat in a few minutes; thought you might be hungry.”

Ian groaned out a thanks and rose up to stretch as he headed toward the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and turned on the sink. He splashed some water on his face hoping it would give him energy. He looked into the reflection in front of him and took in the sight; he did not look like himself - he was pale, his eyes were sunken, he looked exhausted. He knew there was an improvement from his previous state. He was able to keep up with things without being too overwhelmed, which was an excellent change from his previous self. He groaned once more as he turned off the water and dried his face with the closest towel he could find.  
He opened the bathroom door and walked down the stairs. Entering the kitchen he saw Fiona sitting with Vee at the table. He stopped at the bottom step and gave a half-smile back to Vee who was grinning as soon as she saw him.

“Hey there, baby! You look rested. How are you feeling?,” she sang out as Fiona turned and smiled up at him.

He hummed back towards her, “Hey, Vee.” He moved past them and went to examine the buckets of greasy chicken on the counter. He had been hoping to get back in shape soon. This was the scrawniest he had been in years, and it affected his self-image and mental health more than he’d like to admit. He missed being fit and strong, but he also knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere near back to his previous form while relying on others to feed him. “KFC?” he asks lamely.

“Yeah,” Fiona says in that soft voice she has put on for him these past few months, “Thought it was easy enough. Hope you’re hungry?” He shortly nodded towards her and opened the cupboard above him to grab plates. Fiona accompanied his movements to start dinner by shouting for the rest of the Gallaghers to come grab food. Liam sauntered in the kitchen with Debbie trailing behind him laughing at something on her phone. Carl came barreling down the steps and raced up to Ian and grabbed a plate out of his hands before quickly filling his plate. Debbie shoved her phone in her back pocket and took two plates from Ian - one for her and one for Liam. Once the kids got situated with their fillings, Fiona and Vee walked around the island to do the same with a thank you to Ian who had his hair ruffled by Fiona as she sang her graces. Ian was the last one to grab food, but he didn’t mind. He liked being able to observe his family sometimes; they were each so different, yet they all seemed to share so many qualities. He always felt a little like the odd one out in that sense.

He joined his family at the table and started to shovel the food in his mouth. Greasy, but undeniably delicious. He was listening to Debbie talk about girl friend drama as Carl got up to grab a second serving.

“ _BUY COKE - IAN_ ,” he read off, “Bro if you needed some coke why didn’t you just ask? How much are we thinking? A gram; an ounce?”

“Yeah, whatever, doofus,” Ian threw a pen that was sitting on the table at Carl with a genuine smile.

“You don't want to try to go get it yourself?” Fiona asked him in a worried tone. _Try to_. It made him wince.

He stared at her a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t really want to deal with going to a store right now.” She nodded her head back at him, but the look on her face was a hit straight to the gut. There was a moment of silence as Ian shifted around in his seat uncomfortable leaving worry in the air. “I applied for jobs today.”

Her face lit up at that. “Really? Where at?”

“I don’t know; just some places I guess. A few restaurant jobs, some mom and pop shops, a few grocery stores,” he paused for a moment, “There was one that I applied for that seemed kind of interesting. It was an ushering job for the CIBC Theatre.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun! My girlfriend used to work as an usher at a concert hall. She snuck me in to go see Boyz II Men when they were performing, and I swear if she had gotten me in close enough I would have taken my top off and jumped onstage with those men,” Vee said.

“What’s an usher?” Carl asked.  
“It’s like a person who takes tickets, and then walks you to your seat,” Ian replied. “It looks like it would be a lot of fun, but I don’t really know much about the job.”

Fiona smiled at him. “Well I hope you get it, and I hope that it’s fun. I think it would be really good for you.”

He hummed in response. He hoped so too.

\--

Ian woke up at eight in the morning a week later to the sun directly hitting his eyes. Upsettingly, he stretched himself out of the bed and went to use the bathroom. He got to the door to his right and could hear Debbie singing some One Direction song to the running water. He switched directions and headed downstairs to use the other bathroom. As he hit the bottom step, he caught a smile from Fiona.

“Hey, good mornin’! I’m about to head out, but I got coffee brewing.”

He nodded towards her and turned to the bathroom door which he discovered was closed. “Is someone in there?”

“Yeah, Frank I think. Been in there quite a while now.”

He pounded on the door. “Yo, Frank! You alive in there?” 

He was awarded with a grunt and a muttered “fuck you” which he took as confirmation of Frank being alive still, so he turned around and headed toward Fiona. Her mouth twitched upwards and her face softened as he looked at her. It’s her new instinct toward him. He ignored her automatic response and went to grab himself some coffee.

“Heard back from any jobs yet?” she asked.

“I have an interview at a restaurant in West Loop on Wednesday, but other than that nothing yet.”

She reached out and squeezed his bicep, “Well I’m sure you’ll get more calls soon. If you don’t hear anything soon, then I’m sure Vee and Kev could help you find something.” She gave him a wink before she kissed him goodbye on the cheek and headed out the back door.

Ian was about halfway through making pancakes for him, Debbie, Carl, and Liam when his phone rang. He looked at the caller i.d. _Chicago, IL_. He slid the bar to the right and pulled the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, am I currently speaking to Ian Gallagher?”

“Yes, hi, that’s me,” he said as he flipped the three pancakes in the pan.

“Hello, Mr. Gallagher. This is Elaine from CIBC Theatre. I was wondering if you had a moment to speak about your job application.”

He felt himself instantly perk up at the mention of the job application. “Yeah, I’m good to speak right now.” He put the spatula on the counter to grip the phone tighter.

“Great,” the woman said. Her voice was sweet and comforting. She had a tone that made her sound like she was a pleasant person to be around. “We were wondering what your availability this week would be for a possible interview. Do you have any specific times in mind?”

“Yeah! No, no I don’t have any specific time in mind,” he knew he sounded flustered and nervous, but he couldn’t help it. “Any time this week would work for me.”

“Alright, how about tomorrow at one o’clock then?” he could hear a smile behind her voice. She was clearly not deterred by his obvious nerves.

“Yeah, that would be perfect.”  
  


“Perfect, Mr. Gallagher!” Quickly she gave him the information on which door to use and how to get there before they said their goodbyes. Ian looked at the phone in his hand. It felt like opportunity.

\--

He ascended the stairs of the Monroe station and was met with the bustle of State Street. Groups of people walking and drinking Starbucks, people with too many shopping bags in their hands, sounds of cars passing by him, teenagers on skateboards whizzing by, people on every corner begging for change. It was so definitively Chicago. Downtown was always so crowded and loud, but it was always met with interesting characters and exciting things to do. It felt like a whole different place from the South Side. Seeing it made him appreciate the city he grew up in just a little bit extra, but he would never want to spend too much time in the tourist trap area.

He sometimes attributes the best parts of working at the club to it being in a different area than where he’s from. Boystown was so exciting and full of people who had completely different hobbies and interests than the people in his neighborhood. The liveliness of it all was compelling, but it was also destructive as Ian would find out.

He looked up at the giant building in front of him. “BLICK art materials” it proclaimed. He smiled at it. _Maybe they have good journaling stuff in there_ , he thought to himself. He made a mental note to visit some time later and see if they do.

He moved his feet past the giant building in front of him to its next door neighbor. He strolled down the alley between the two buildings and walked up to the side door. It didn’t look like a place that someone who wasn’t a professional should be, but this was the door Elaine told him to enter through over the phone. He opened the door and entered into a hallway. He noticed a cork board on the wall next to him filled with different sheets and announcements. The rest of the wall was covered in portraits from shows with signatures on them. He gazed at each one as he continued down the hallway. So many interesting faces; he wished he could understand what each show was from the picture, but he could only gather basic information. Out of his peripheral, he noticed a figure walking toward him.

“Hello!” a sweet voice called out; he immediately recognized it as the woman from the phone. “You must be Ian. I’m Elaine.”

He reached for her outstretched hand and shook it. “It’s so nice to meet you, Elaine.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” She had a warm smile that matched her voice perfectly. She was short, probably about five-foot-two if Ian had to guess and probably in her late thirties. Her hair was shoulder length and dyed golden. She was wearing black slacks, a blush colored blouse, and had dangling diamond shape rainbows hanging from her ears. She pulled her hand from his and pushed her big, golden frames up her nose. She seemed just as pleasant as Ian had imagined her to be over the phone. “You can follow me, and I’ll take you to the lounge area where we can go over some questions.”

She led him down the rest of the hallway and around a corner. They passed by rooms with people working. He noticed people working at sewing machines, people stretching in dance clothes, and people moving items that he could not classify from room to room. They eventually turned into a side room with a desk and two chairs. It was littered with greenery and many books with titles including “theatre” and “Broadway”. She motioned for him to take a seat, and he gladly accepted.

“Would you like a water, Ian?” she asked politely.

“I would love one, thank you.”

She grabbed two water bottles from the mini fridge in the corner of the office and brought them back to the desk. She set them down and took a seat in front of him. “So, Ian, I am so glad you could make it today. I just have to go over a few routine questions, but before we start I was wondering what your interest in ushering was.”

“Oh, I’m a big people person, and this job seems like it involves a lot of social interaction. I was also drawn into the position being at a theater because that seemed interesting and exciting.”

“It is exciting! Have you been to the theater often?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve actually never seen a live show. I’ve seen a few movie musicals though, and I’ve always liked them.”

She laughed at that, “Not exactly the same as seeing a live show, but they do have good qualities to them too. So I can assume you’ve never heard of _The Light from Your Eyes_?” He shook his head again. “Oh, it’s wonderful. It’s a contemporary musical with lots of pop rock influences. It follows a family as they work through the trials of losing a child with another baby on the way. It’s sad, but also so tender and heartwarming. It started out on Broadway a year ago, and it came to Broadway in Chicago four months after that. It won four Tony awards last season.” He nodded again not entirely taking in all of the information. He could admit that it sounded like an interesting show from what he gathered, but then again he didn’t really know what made a good musical.

From that point, she started asking him questions related to the position, and he felt confident in most of his answers - more confident than he had in what felt like years but couldn’t have been more than a few months. After a quick questionnaire, she asked if he had questions which he responded with asking about uniforms and benefits. They wrapped things up with a handshake and she led him out of the office and pointed him back to the door he entered through. He thanked her once more and headed down the hallway. He stopped once more at the corkboard to inspect the papers again before turning back to the door. He pushed open the door but was met with resistance.

“Watch the fuck out, asshole,” a gruff voice came from behind the door. The body moved back, and Ian pushed the door open again to see a man standing behind it rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! Are you o-” he was cut off by the dark haired man pushing past him with a scowl.

“Go fuck yourself, you prick,” he said while flipping Ian off as he stomped down the hallway.

_Well_ , Ian thought to himself, _I hope he doesn’t have an interview with Elaine too. What a dick_. He turned back to the alleyway and headed to the train station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I had a really tough time choosing between past or present tense, but ultimately I chose to go with past because this version of the characters are younger than we know them now in 2021  
> \- I was hoping it was obvious, but just to clarify this is taken place towards the beginning of season 6, so everything up to this point is pretty much the same as canon with the exception of Mickey, and everything after this will probably not align with canon  
> \- I promise Ian won't be this down for too long. I just need him to be at a point where he needs to pick himself up.  
> \- Thinking of Monica taking Ian to Blick kinda made me feel happy, so it also made Ian happy  
> \- Sorry for those of you who say soda instead of pop, but you're in Midwestern territory now  
> \- I totally chose Boyz II Men just because Shanola posted their song on her Insta story today ngl  
> \- Theater vs. theatre: I hate it but I'm trying to follow the rules from the internet  
> \- Ooh who's that mysterious man at the door? ;)


	2. Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched awestruck as the man gracefully plucked out each note. Ian inched closer and observed the scene. The man had dark black hair, and he was wearing a black button-up paired with black slacks. His dark colored hair was slicked back. Ian’s eyeline trailed down to his knuckles where there was dark lettering lining each finger. He was staring at him from behind his right shoulder, so he couldn’t get a good look at his face. Suddenly, the man halted his playing.
> 
> “What the fuck do you want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prelude: an introductory piece of music, most commonly an orchestral opening to an act of an opera, the first movement of a suite, or a piece preceding a fugue.

Ian was sitting on the couch half paying attention to a documentary on reptiles in South America when the front door opened.

“Ayo, how’s it going,” Lip announced as he entered the living room. He walked up to Liam, who was sitting on the couch next to Ian and eating cereal, and ruffled his hair. He then turned to Ian and patted him on the shoulder. “Any news this week?”

“Yeah, Fiona’s Mormon, Kev’s our new dad, Carl just got hired at NASA, Debbie owns a Fortune 500 company, and Liam here just pooped his pants.”

“I didn’t!” Liam said with a grumpy face and a swat to Ian’s arm.

“Ow! Kidding, kidding,” Ian feigned hurt.

“You’re getting pretty strong, little man. Can you go take your dishes to the sink?” Liam nodded up at Lip and trotted away from the two men. Lip pulled a pack of smokes out of his pocket and pulled out two. Ian took the outstretched cigarette in his mouth as Lip lit it for his younger brother. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments focused on the burning sticks in their hands. “Anything new from you?”

Ian turned to him. He shrugged a little before saying, “I mean I’ve been on a job hunt this past week. I just finished my first interview today.” It was strange to have news in his life that didn’t involve his family or his never-ending psychologist visits. It felt good to be able to talk about something involving him making genuine progress in his life.

“Oh yeah? Where at?” Lip asked between drags.

“CIBC Theatre. There’s some musical about family dynamics that’s been there for almost a year now.”

Lip nodded. “Musical theatre, huh? That’s pretty fucking gay.”

Ian rolled his eyes and kicked his brother in the shin who laughed right back at him. They fell into the same comfortable silence from before.

“What’s the job?”

“Hmm?”

“What job would you be doing?”

Ian laughed. “Sorry, guess I thought I mentioned it. It’s a job ushering.”

“The fuck is ushering?” Lip furrowed his eyebrows. 

“It’s like taking tickets and showing people to their seats,” Ian answered with another drag to his cigarette. He had reached the butt, so he tossed it into the ashtray on the coffee table with all the other fully smoked sticks of tobacco. He could remember that he quit smoking once, when he ran off to join the army. He remembered feeling so alive when he finally kicked the habit and got over withdrawals, but that also could’ve just been the high from his mania making him feel that way. Still, if there was one thing he wished he could get back from the previous year, it would be his ability to not rely on nicotine. But as soon as he came out of his first depressive episode, he immediately started up again and couldn’t get himself to stop. It was so easy the first time; nothing was easy now.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the back door being opened. His older brother and him both craned their necks to see who it was, and they saw Fiona strutting to the countertops to set down the groceries in her arms.

She smiled at them as she moved to stand in the archway. “Hey, Lip! When’d you get here?”

“Few minutes ago,” he noted as he tossed his burnt out cigarette next to Ian’s. “Thought I’d stop by for dinner.”

“Good! I bought stuff for spaghetti tonight,” she turned her attention toward her other brother, “Hey, how’d the interview go?”

“Good,” he smiled at her, “I’m really hoping they call me back. I think I’d really like it.”

She returned his smile with an even wider grin. “Hey, that’s great! I’m proud of you kiddo.” She made her way over to him and gave him a big hug and a kiss to the cheek, which he gladly accepted. He felt good. He was glad everyone else felt good for him too.

Soon they all ended up moving into the kitchen to start on dinner. They were laughing and talking as they worked on making the spaghetti dinner. He felt happy.

\--

It was another six days after that before Ian got the call.

“Hi Ian, it’s Elaine from CIBC Theatre calling back to offer you a job on our team,” his voicemail repeated, “I was wondering if you were available for orientation this Thursday at two in the afternoon. Give me a call back, and let me know. Thanks. Bye!”

_Fuck_ , he missed the call. 

_Fuck_ , he’d got the job.

He hit “call back” and waited as the phone rang.

\--

The three days passed by quickly, and Ian soon found himself standing in front of the bathroom mirror at one on a Thursday wearing a blue button up and black jeans. He messed with his hair for the hundredth time as he examined himself. He noted the ways he keeps changing: his eyes were getting brighter, his lips were less chapped, his posture was straighter, he seemed more lively in general.

“Is my hairbrush in here?” a voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned and saw his little sister enter the room and begin a search for her missing hairbrush.

“You going somewhere?” he asked her.

“Yeah, Holly, Ellie, and I are going to see a movie.” She turned to look at him. “Are _you_ going somewhere? I haven’t seen you look like this in a while. Or ever.”

He gave a half-chuckle and his eyes darted towards his feet before catching her eyes again. “Job orientation today. Hoping to make a good impression.”

She hummed, “Well you look good Ian.” She then located her hairbrush and exited as quickly as she entered.

He turned back to the mirror, took a deep sigh, and turned and walked out the door. He was greeted with some “good luck” from his siblings as he walked through the kitchen before heading out the back door to make the short walk to the L.

After a short ride, he got off at the Monroe station and walked over to the CIBC Theatre just like he did eight days prior. He turned in the alley and noticed the smell of tobacco lingering in the small space between the two buildings. He turned at the metal door and opened it to step inside. He walked down the hallway lined with cast photos once more. He wasn’t entirely sure where to go, so he took slow strides hoping that Elaine or someone would come and gather him. As he made it to the intersection where they turned to go to Elaine’s office on his last visit, he turned his head to the right where he saw Elaine talking to two taller men. Her eyes darted behind the men she was talking to and landed on Ian. She gave him a big grin and waved at him. He walked toward her as she dismissed the men and met up with Ian.

“Ian! It’s so great to see you,” she said as she shook his hand. “You can head in this room and take a seat, and we’ll begin very shortly.” She led him into a small room with two couches and a few chairs. Sitting on one of the chairs was a woman with dark, curly hair who looked to be about Fiona’s age. He noticed that she was shaking her legs viciously, but her posture was straight and confident. On the wall to her left there was another man with dark frames on his eyes and a buzzed head sitting on the couch leaning his elbows on his knees. He seemed more towards Elaine’s age than the two in the room. They both turned to Ian as he made his entrance. He flashed them a quick friendly smile and a nod before taking a seat on the other couch in the room.

They waited in the anxiety filled room for about ten more minutes as two more people - one who looked a bit younger than Ian, and one who could be anywhere from seventeen to mid-forties - made their way in the room and took seats where they could. He was wondering about that guy he slammed the door in the face of and if he was possibly going to see him today. _There’s no way Elaine would have hired someone with an attitude like that_ , he thought. Still, he wasn’t sure. Everyone else in the room had a pleasant aura to them though.

“Alright, everybody, let’s get started!” Elaine exclaimed as she entered the small room. Everybody straightened out their bodies at the sound of her voice. Clearly, they were all trying to impress her at least a little bit, and maybe each other as well. “Let us start with a brief introduction of ourselves to each other, and then we’ll work on paperwork before I give you the grand tour.”

She asked the woman who was shaking her legs to go first. “Hi, I’m Mara. One fun fact about me is that I spent this past summer working at a dance camp for kids.”

Next was one of the two people who walked in after Ian. “Hey, I’m Max. I go by they/them pronouns, and one fact about me is that I have an Instagram account with over ten thousand followers where I post skateboard tricks.” Max seemed to have an artsy style that Ian could appreciate on other people, but he could never pull it off. Ian nodded along with everyone else as Max said their line, though he wasn’t sure what “they/them pronouns” meant.

Next was the guy who was sitting on the other couch. “Uhh, I’m Preston. I guess that my fact would be that I went to Australia last year. It was pretty dope.”

After Preston was the other person that walked in after Ian - a girl characterised by red hair, which Ian can relate to, and dark glasses. “Hi, I’m Rose,” she glanced over at Max with a soft smile, “She/her pronouns. One fact about me is that I am a double major in art history and child psychology.” Max gave her a semi-awkward pursed lipped smile back, and Ian did not understand the interaction at all.

Last up was Ian, who was slowly beginning to realize that he didn’t have a fact to share about himself. None that were as mundane as everyone else’s at least. And he didn’t know what the fuck this pronoun thing was. “Hi, I’m Ian,” he blurted out, “Umm, I guess, umm…” He thought back on the past year for something he did, but nothing he could think of was interesting or appropriate to say, and they all involved being bipolar. “I have five siblings,” he concluded. Boring, but safe.

Elaine smiled and nodded towards him like she did the others. “Okay. Well, I’m Elaine Martin, as you all probably know, and I am the house manager for this theater. You are all being hired as ushers, so your job will be to help audience members find their seats, hand out programs, answer any questions our patrons have, as well as other responsibilities as needed. Any questions?” The group all made an effort to look like they were trying to come up with something before they all ended up shaking their heads. “Alright, well if anything comes up along the way, feel free to ask. Now, there’s just a bit of paperwork to fill out, and then we can take a tour of the building.”

\--

After about a half hour of each person filling out their respective paperwork, Elaine led them on a tour. The “house”, as Elaine called it, was gigantic. Ian couldn’t imagine what it looked like when the house was full. According to the facts they were told, the capacity was one thousand eight hundred people, and the auditorium is pretty commonly packed. They were also taken through the hallways backstage where they were shown the costume shop, hair and makeup, dressing rooms, and green rooms. It felt like an entirely new world to Ian as he tried to follow each new vocabulary word he was given.

The group began back down the hallway they started in to grab their things from the small green room they were sitting in previously so they could go home. He thought the small group surrounding him seemed like good people. Everybody’s nerves started to dissipate with each step through the building, so by the end they were all pretty chatty with each other.

They were all childishly giggling about a story that Elaine told about a man pointing out the architecture on the column they passed by having a suspiciously phallic shaped design when Ian heard music. He didn’t recognize the song, but it was jazzy and slow. Whoever was playing it was incredibly talented. He wanted to stop and take it all in, something he never felt compelled to do before. It just had him in such an awe that a sound could be coming from an instrument. It intrigued him.

The music gradually became louder as they walked down the hallway until they finally came across the room the sound was spilling out of. He wanted to stop; he wanted to investigate, but the group kept walking, so he continued with them. The sound was getting softer each step they took away from the mysterious noise. They eventually made it back to the room they first met in, where Elaine explained that she would be in contact with them about the next schedule, which they would all be put on, and they said their goodbyes to each other as they exited one by one back out the alley.

Ian took his time gathering up his papers and finishing the water he was given. He could still faintly hear music. This song was different from the first - more upbeat and it had a bounce. Elaine looked at him standing in the corner as he weakly adjusted his shirt and gave him a quick smile. He could tell she was wondering what he was doing.

“What’s that song?” he ended up asking.

She looked toward the doorway. “Oh, I’m not sure. I can’t really hear it.” She looked back at Ian. “I’d say we could go ask him, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. He can have a bit of an attitude, and I feel like he wouldn’t be very happy about people interrupting his playing.”

Ian furrowed his eyebrows at that. If you have a talent, wouldn’t you _want_ to show it off to as many people as possible? Maybe small audiences are uncomfortable or something because whoever’s playing clearly isn’t in the building to just play for himself; there was too much talent in that sound for it to be that.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said to him, “You can go down there and check it out, and I’ll tell security that you’re in the area. Just don’t let him know that you’re with me.” He agreed with a nod, and she winked at him before leaving the room. He followed out the door and turned to stalk down the hallway towards the sound.

He stood in the doorway of the room trying to see if he could find the culprit of the noise from there, but the only piano he could see was empty. He noticed the sound was coming from his left, and he quickly saw another open door. He moved to that doorway, and he saw a man sitting at an upright piano. He watched awestruck as the man gracefully plucked out each note. Ian inched closer and observed the scene. The man had dark black hair, and he was wearing a black button-up paired with black slacks. His dark colored hair was slicked back. Ian’s eyeline trailed down to his knuckles where there was dark lettering lining each finger. He was staring at him from behind his right shoulder, so he couldn’t get a good look at his face. Suddenly, the man halted his playing.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked to the wall in front of him with an annoyed tone. It took Ian a minute to realize he was talking to him.

“You could see me?” Ian was sure the man had his eyes closed.

“Your eyes are burning into the back of my skull,” the man replied, turning to face Ian. He recognized the scowl on his face; it matched the man he hit with the door. Ian felt heat rushing to his face; ruining this stranger’s mood twice was not something Ian had planned to do.

“Sorry,” Ian said trying to ignore his burning cheeks. “It sounds beautiful.”

The man rolled his as he grunted, “Thanks.” He turned back to the piano in front of him, clearly wanting Ian to leave, but Ian couldn’t get his feet to walk away just yet.

“What was that song?” he asked.

The other man sighed with annoyance at Ian’s inability to leave him alone. “‘Anywhere But Here’ from _Honeymoon in Vegas_.” He turned back to Ian who had a blank look on his face. “By Jason Robert Brown?” Ian shrugged unaware of what he was supposed to think. The man narrowed his eyes at him in a quizzical way. There was a clear roadblock in this conversation that neither of them understood.

“It was beautiful. I really liked the one you were playing before that too. The one that was, like, slow and stuff.”

Now the man looked fully shocked. “You can’t even recognize _Gershwin_? What the hell are you even doing here?”

Ian shuffled side to side. He didn’t expect this much animosity and pretentiousness to be thrown at him. He supposed Elaine did give a warning. He definitely didn’t want to throw her under the bus if this guy was this mad.

The man sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hand. He looked to his left, took a deep breath, and turned back to face Ian. “Look, sorry. I get a little pissed when someone fucks up my rhythm. It’s not personal, man.” 

Ian nodded back to him. “Sorry. I just really liked the song. You’re really talented.”

“Yeah, it’s what they hire me for,” he said as he stood up and started gathering up books. “You work here or something? I haven’t seen you around before, and you clearly don’t know jack shit about music.”

Ian was surprised this man was making small talk with him. He did not seem like the type. He was also glad that he did not seem to remember the incident the previous week, or at least he didn’t remember Ian’s face. The hostility in the air was gone, so Ian answered him, “Yeah, I just got hired as an usher.”

“Usher. That makes sense.” The dark-haired man transferred the books in his hands into a rugged looking backpack.

Ian took in the scene before him. The man was short and buff and clearly young; he looked to be around Ian’s age. His eyes were piercing blue which stuck out against the jet black of his hair. His eyebrows were weirdly attractive; it was hard to describe, but they just held so much personality to them. His laugh lines were defined along with deep crows feet which surprised Ian a little since this man did not seem very joyful in the short amount of time they knew each other. He was also undeniably hot. Like, really fucking hot. Ian hadn’t felt a strong attraction toward anyone in so long, so this burning pit in his stomach from talking to the shorter man was exciting. He also was beginning to realize that they had been in the room for a few minutes, and he hadn’t even asked what his name was yet.

“Ian.” He stuck out his hand.

The other man looked at it with a raised eyebrow seemingly debating whether he should take it or not before finally reaching out and shaking his hand. “Mickey.”

_Mickey_. The name made Ian’s stomach flip.

“I, uh, gotta go get ready. Thanks for the compliments, or whatever, Ian,” Mickey said as he slung the backpack on his shoulders. With a final glance and a nod at the taller man he went out of the room.

“No problem,” Ian said to the empty space, “Mickey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This chapter includes lots and lots of nodding  
> \- I love the Gallagher family dynamic sm  
> \- Mickey isn't going to be a pretentious character! I just think he expected a person in the backstage of the theater to know the references  
> \- I love when they first meet in a fic. It's my absolute favorite part <3


	3. Con Slancio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian has his first day on the job. It goes very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Con Slancio: with momentum; with enthusiasm.
> 
> \--
> 
> HUGE shout out to mikhailo-m on Tumblr for giving me insight on the job of a Broadway usher. Thank you, Mick :)

Ian made it home that evening, grabbed the laptop, and immediately started Googling. He didn’t know Mickey’s last name, but “mickey pianist chicago” was a good enough phrase to give him the answer.

_Mickey Milkovich - Composer, Pianist, Music Director_

He clicked the link and was brought to a website that showcased a headshot of the face that was staring at him an hour prior along with video links and Mickey’s various accomplishments and awards. He clicked the first video in the sidebar of the page and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as he waited for it to load. He felt like what he was doing was creepy, but he just needed to see more of this guy. It felt like a compulsion.

The video began with Mickey getting situated at the piano and resting his hands in their placement as the audience hushed into a silence. Then, suddenly, the pianist hit the notes with a loud bang and he was off. His hands moved over each note at a rapid pace, and the sound was monumental. Ian was blown away. It was insane to him that someone just knew how to do that. He didn’t even have a book in front of him; he just played. This was way different from what he was playing earlier. This song had more technique or something to it. Ian didn’t really know, but it sounded more difficult than either of the other ones he played today.

After a minute of rapid and intense playing, the song slowed and softened into what sounded like a whole different song. Ian was mesmerized by Mickey’s eyebrows. They had so much concentration and emotion behind them. He could tell that Mickey was putting every inch of his being into this song, and everything he wanted to say about it was written on those two eyebrows.

The sound returned to its previous form, but this time it sounded grander; the music hit Ian like a wall. It was magic.

Mickey finished the song with energy and ferocity, and Ian watched as he stood up and bowed his head to the audience. He didn’t look happy. He didn’t look energized, which is exactly how Ian was feeling after; he just looked bored and even unimpressed. The video ended as he started to walk offstage, and Ian was left stunned. He sat for a minute absorbing what he just watched. He may not be into classical music, but watching Mickey was fascinating, and he was so _talented_ , yet Mickey just didn’t even react to his own performance. Though Ian didn’t understand his apathetic reaction, it just made him want to understand this guy more. 

He brought himself back to his computer and clicked another video titled “Someone to Watch Over Me - Lily Mann”. The video loaded up, and Mickey was sitting at a piano behind a girl, who Ian could assume was Lily Mann, but this time they were in a small room rather than on a stage. Lily was standing in front of a microphone, and as Mickey started playing she gave a confident smirk to the camera. Ian immediately recognized the tune.

“ _There’s a saying old, says that love is blind_

_Still we’re often told, ‘seek and ye shall find’_

_So I’m going to seek a certain lad I had in mind…_ ”

It was the first song he heard Mickey playing earlier that day. _Gershwin_ , Ian remembers Mickey saying, though that didn’t mean much to him. He listened to the way Mickey’s accompaniment blended with Lily’s smooth voice. The sound that the two of them created together was so beautifully drawn out and warm. Ian could feel goosebumps as they reached the chorus.

“ _There’s a somebody I’m longing to see_

_I hope that he turns out to be_

_Someone who’ll watch over me_

_I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood_

_I know I could always be good_

_To one who’ll watch over me_ ”

He watched Mickey’s face. He seemed to be enjoying himself, as his eyebrows were softly raised on his forehead and he had a slight upturn of his lips. He glanced over at the singer, and he formed a soft smile. He looked fond of her. It made Ian smile at the two on screen. They both were tackling this song in such a delicate manner; it was a wonderful sight, and Ian liked watching it.

They wrapped up the song with a final “ _Someone to watch over me_ ” and Mickey’s final few notes. The music stopped and the two looked at each other for a moment. Lily gave a bright laugh, and Ian could see Mickey lightly chuckling to himself as the video faded out.

Ian _loved_ that song. He loved it when he heard it drifting through the hallways of the theater, and he loved it even more when he heard the fullness of the song. He picked up his phone on the table beside him and pulled up Spotify. He typed in “someone to watch” and the first thing that popped up was “Someone to Watch Over Me - Ella Fitzgerald” which was a name Ian could recognize. He liked the song and clicked “Create New Playlist”. He paused as he stared at the screen. He didn’t know what the playlist would end up being, but he had a feeling he would be adding more to it. He tapped his fingers on the side of the phone as he thought about what to title this currently one-song playlist. He bit his lip as he typed in “ _M”_ and clicked save.

\--

Ian’s first week had him scheduled for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and then Saturday for the two o’clock matinee. Monday he found himself standing in his new uniform in a circle of ushers and listening to Elaine who was listing off what they needed to know for the night. He tried to keep up with the information as she discussed who was going to be in the audience tonight, which included some celebrity from a television show he’d never seen, and two high school groups. They were standing a few yards away from the stage, and Ian couldn’t help himself from examining the space in front of him.

The stage was massive. It was way bigger than anything he had in mind. There wasn’t a lot on it, but there was a tiered metal platform on the back left side, and there was a giant fountain in the center. There were people on the stage moving items and keeping busy. Ian’s eyes scanned the stage in an attempt to figure out where the instruments were. He didn’t see any on the stage. He was curious. He wanted to watch him play live again. He wanted to ask Elaine about it, but as soon as the group dispersed to go to their stations, she was pulled away by a woman talking about ticket sales or capacity. He stood in the now non-existent circle and looked down to the walkie-talkie headset that was handed out to him. He lifted the headpiece and put it on. It was uncomfortable, but it kind of felt cool to have. It felt professional, which felt fun in a way. It was like dress-up, but he was getting paid.

Ian, now clad in his full usher uniform, turned around and made his way out of the auditorium to make his way to the stairs. He passed by the big glass doors at the front of the building and saw a large crowd gathered outside waiting to be let in. When he arrived at the theater an hour prior, there was a small group of people outside, but this was _a lot_ of people: talking, smiling, and he could tell some of them were singing. He smiled to himself. He truly was excited to be able to interact with people tonight. It was a good night for him.

He walked up the two flights, and entered the doors to the mezzanine. As he made his way to his spot, he took in the sight of the stage again. It looked so small from here. Everything seemed more of one giant stage rather than parts of stage from this view as well. He watched people move across the stage preparing for the doors to open in twenty minutes. His eyes were pulled right in front of the stage where two men were talking. He squinted his eyes, as it looked like one of the men was popping his head out from under the stage. He leaned forward to get a better look.

“Hey, Ian right?” He heard a voice come from his left. He turned his head and saw two of the members from his orientation standing together.

“Yeah, hey... Mara?” She nodded. “How’s it going?”

“Good. Max and I were just talking about the show. My first day was yesterday, and it was super easy. Plus I know the theater a bit; I used to come here with my mom’s company as a kid.”

“Yeah, and I was just asking her what to expect,” Max added.

“I was just telling them that most people are super friendly, and I didn’t have any problems yesterday. I did hear about someone in the orchestra almost getting thrown out of the orchestra section for refusing to stop texting though,” she snickered, “Why even spend upwards of two-hundred just to look at your phone the whole time. It takes away from the magic for everyone.”

Ian missed most of what she said due to a distraction. “Oh yeah, totally. Speaking of orchestra, where is the band at? Are they backstage?”

Mara shook her head and turned her attention to the stage. “See where those two guys are talking? The bald one is the conductor; he’s standing in the pit right now. That’s where the band plays,” she clarified.

Ian looked back to the two men he was observing a minute earlier. The bald man was behind a black curtain, so only his head was visible. Ian couldn’t get a good look at anything beyond the curtain, but he vowed to examine further the first chance he could.

“That’s pretty cool actually. I think I’m gonna end up becoming a theatre kid after this,” Max joked. Ian and Mara laughed in response. He liked these two; they seemed genuinely interesting from the little he’s known. When the topic of possibly hanging out on a day off came up, Ian gladly agreed to the idea. “I know a pretty sick bar a few blocks from here. Super laid-back, and super gay,” Max suggested.

“Well if it’s gay I’m automatically in,” Mara laughed. “Ian? You in?”

It was strangely comforting how open they were being. Ian tried his best not to look shocked in case it gave off the wrong impression. “I mean I can’t say I know much about being laid-back, but I know a bit about being gay.” They laughed at his joke. Holy shit he felt happy with how this was going. He was actually making friends, and it was only the first day.

The group of three separated and moved their way to their selective stations. Ian picked up the stack of Playbills in a pile for him to hand out to the audience members. He had about five minutes left before doors were going to be opened. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His mind immediately wandered back to the mysterious pianist he met four days ago. It was a habit he was noticing. Their conversation wasn’t even anything spectacular, but his mind kept going back to him. Obviously a part of it was due to how attractive he was. There was something else though; something that compelled Ian to want to know more.

Ian thought about coming in the next day with the excuse that he needed to talk to Elaine, and then see if Mickey was playing again. But then he would have to actually have something to talk to Elaine about. He then thought about searching for Mickey after the show, but he didn’t know if he would be in the same room. No excuse was perfect though; Ian would have to find a way if he wanted to see this man again.

Ian was debating with himself over the Mickey situation when the headset he was wearing stated, “ _House is open_.” Ian opened his eyes to see his coworkers opening the doors. He put on a smile and got ready for the crowd.

\--

The show was breathtaking; Ian had never experienced anything like it. The closest thing to a live show he had ever seen was when a ventriloquist was a guest at a school assembly when he was in elementary school. This show transferred him into the world on the stage. He could see the amount of work put into these characters, and he appreciated it immensely. A few parts hit close to home; the mom reminded him of Fiona, and the kids reminded him of him and his siblings during childhood in the most intimate way. He cried towards the end when the mother character, Amelia, sang a beautiful ballad about how she wouldn’t change the life they built. It was wonderful.

The crowd was slow to clear the auditorium. Ian observed the groups of people gathered together taking pictures or talking or taking extra time to gather their items. He was surprised at how many colorful characters he came in contact with that night. He always thought that the only people who went to shows like this were rich and old, but there were a lot of teenagers and young adults. And it didn’t seem like they all had a lot of money. It was sort of a relief to Ian. He wasn’t really in the mood to cater to old, rich folks. He’d definitely done that enough for a lifetime. It was refreshing to see a healthy mix of all different kinds of people rather than only stuffy geriatrics.

Eventually the auditorium was cleared out, and Ian joined Max and Mara out of the lobby and headed backstage to drop off their uniform jackets and walkie-talkies. Max was sharing a story about a group of people in his section who would not stop talking loudly to each other when Ian got a phone call. He waved Max and Mara goodbye as he stood off to the side of the hallway to answer the call from _Debs_.

“Hey.”

“Can you pick up pie from Patsy’s on your way home?”

Ian groaned, “I’m tired. Couldn’t you have asked Fiona to bring some home after her shift?”

“We didn’t want pie back then! Fuckin’ starving now though,” he heard Carl chime in.

“Pleaaasseeee Ian. I want cherry pie soooo bad right now,” Debbie pleaded to her older brother who closed his eyes and sighed.

“Fine. You both owe me though. I expect lots of waffles tomorrow morning in return, Debs,” he smiled into the phone.

“Thanks Ian! Love you!” Debbie cheered.

“You’re the best, bro.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too. See you in a bit.” He ended the call and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He made his way to the exit.

He pushed open the door when the distinct smell of tobacco filled his nose. He looked around and found the figure of a man standing in the dim light. He identified Mickey immediately. He was leaning on the wall with one foot lifted on the brick. He was dressed in jeans and a red flannel with the sleeves cut off over a black t-shirt. He took a slow drag from his cigarette and Ian heard him mumble something to himself. He wasn’t paying Ian any attention, but Ian wanted him to.

Ian cleared his throat, and Mickey’s head shot up, and he frowned at Ian. Ian took a few steps toward the man. “Can I bum one off of you?” It was a lame attempt. Ian was sure Mickey could tell it was a weak excuse to talk to him again, but Mickey just made an annoyed face and reached in his pocket to pull out another cigarette and hand it to Ian along with a lighter.

Ian lit the cigarette and took a deep inhale. “It was Mickey, right?” _Like you don’t know_.

Mickey sniffed and nodded. “And you’re the usher who likes to interrupt with his staring, right?”

Ian chuckled softly. “Ian. Sorry, again. It was really good though, so I don’t think you can really blame me.”

“Well. Think I could.” They each took another drag.

“It was amazing tonight too. You were playing?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Ian hummed in response. Mickey took one last breath of smoke before tossing the butt of the cigarette into a coffee container by the doorsteps. Ian felt a rush of panic as he watched the other man shuffle around thinking he was going to go back inside, but he ended up turning back around and standing on the wall opposite of Ian. Ian watched as he tilted his head upward and closed his eyes. “You’re tired,” Ian stated. He felt heat rushing to his cheeks as he regretted stating something so obvious and unnecessary. 

Mickey sighed. “Yeah, pretty much. Got a lot of shit going on right now. Gonna get even worse with the holidays on the way. Lots and lots of fucking gigs.”

“You do other work? Like outside of the theater?”

“Yeah. Like private events and shit. Great tips though,” his eyes opened and he looked at Ian. It was somewhat dark, but Ian could see that Mickey had bright blue eyes. They might’ve been the most beautiful thing he’d seen. Ian smiled back and took the final drag from his cigarette before throwing it out the same way Mickey did.

“Do you do this every night after a show? Like a ritual or something?” Ian asked as he returned to his spot on the wall. He looked back up to meet Mickey’s blue ones which were intently focused on Ian. Mickey sharply turned his head down as if he was just caught doing something bad. _He’s fucking cute_ , Ian thought.

Mickey started picking at his fingers and shrugged. “Just when my dumbass brother takes his sweet time picking me up. Idiot knows I finish up at about eleven every night, and he always chooses to leave the house at ten forty-five. It’s like a twenty minute drive from the southside. Slow as shit.” He pulled out his phone. “Eleven oh two. And ten minutes ago: ‘leaving in five’.” He sighed and stowed his phone in his pocket again.

“You’re southside?” Mickey nodded and shuffled his feet. “Me too. Back of the Yards. Didn’t know that there was anyone down there who was actually talented.” Ian smiled quickly before letting it fall. He should have seen the signs: the knuckle tattoos, the brash response to somebody watching him in a private moment, the way he was now dressed in casual clothes that had the same look as all the homophobic assholes from back home. _But a pianist? For musical theatre? How homophobic can someone like that be?_

Mickey snorted at Ian’s comment. “Yeah, I’m full of surprises, I guess. Making my pops real proud,” he replied with a heavy amount of sarcasm. “How about you? You just decided to get a job as an usher ‘cause it seemed fun? Kinda far from home, man.”

“Yeah,” Ian started as he lifted his arm to the back of his head and started nervously rubbing the nape of his own neck, “Was going through some stuff this year, so I was looking for something new. I don’t know. I like people, so it sounded like it would be a fun way to get to socialize. It’s fun so far; I like it. Met some cool people.”

“Sorry to ruin your streak then,” Mickey smirked. Ian gave a soft laugh back.

If Ian was being honest, he thought Mickey _was_ the coolest person he met so far. It might’ve just been the fact that he was insanely hot, and Ian really wanted to pin him against the wall and make out with him, but he definitely wasn’t gonna jump on him knowing that he’s southside. Not many people around there take lightly to _homosexual_ advances. Ian was still pretty suspicious though. Or maybe he just really wanted Mickey to be gay. It was the first attraction he had to anyone in almost a year, and it was such an electric force that was making him want this man. He really couldn’t explain it. He was just so enthralled by Mickey; he needed to know more about him. He couldn’t even walk away from this conversation even though he had no reason to stay at the theater. And there were kids waiting for him at home. Or waiting for pie rather.

Mickey furrowed his eyebrows as he reached into his pocket again. He pulled out his phone and rolled his eyes at the screen. “‘Stopping at McDonald’s. Be there soon.’ Yeah okay,” he huffed as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Well I’d offer you a ride, but the Red Line is way worse than waiting another half-hour for a ride,” Ian joked.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at him. Ian’s smile fell. _Oh shit_. “Why you standing here, then?”

_Yeah, I probably should get going_ . _I had time between trains and must've lost track of time_ . _Actually I just decided I’m getting an uber_ . “Oh. I don’t know. Just talking I guess.” _Nice. Not awkward or uncomfortable at all_.

Mickey licked his lips. “Talking, huh?” he smirked at Ian. “How’s that going so far?”

_Okay. This is flirting. This has to be flirting_ . Ian tried to hide his blush by scratching his nose. “Not sure. Pretty sure this guy still hates me because I watched him play the piano once, and apparently that’s _too_ intimate.”

Mickey laughed back. “Dick.”

A moment of tense silence passed. Ian wondered if he should try being more obvious that he’s gay, just in case this actually was Mickey flirting with him. But if Mickey wasn’t flirting then this could become real awkward real fast. Or even dangerous. 

“So,” Mickey interrupted his thoughts, “you wanna go bang in the bathroom, or what?”

Ian raised an eyebrow at his boldness. It was unexpected, to say the least. “What, here?”

Mickey shrugged back, keeping an intense gaze on Ian. “We don’t gotta.” His eyes scoped Ian up and down as he bit his lip with another shrug. _Holy shit_.

“Fuck it,” Ian replied back, “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- If you want you can follow me on Tumblr at milkovichesmicks :)  
> \- I miss the theater!! This whole fic is just so I can pretend I'm at the theater again  
> \- I remember seeing Wicked once and all of a sudden a head popped up from under the stage and started talking to the people in front of us and it took me so long to realize that that's where the band was  
> \- I haven't been to CIBC since 2017 so I'm working with really old memories and online pictures to try and build the picture so sorry if it's not accurate :/  
> \- The romance of Mickey Milkovich is really something else  
> \- I love these men


End file.
